The Cure or The Safe Haven
by Lily Bird Flower
Summary: So, Connor ends up in the Avengers’ universe (with no Thanos, mind you), and he is trying to become Tony’s intern (such an original plot!) so he can have easy access to the parts necessary to jump to another universe where there aren’t aliens and super diseases trying to kill everyone. But of course, things are not going to go exactly the way Connor wants it to go. T in case.
1. Meeting Peter

**Okay, I know I am writing random things, and I keep coming back to Avengers, but I read a few stories about this crossover where Connor would somehow end up in the Avengers' universe and was trying to find a way home. I wanted to write a story like that, but with a different twist to it. What if, instead of having been teleported, that Connor left his universe on purpose, because he had nowhere left to go? And Hank went with him, because how can we not have Hank?**

 **Also, I am having finals all this week, so don't expect me to update much this week. Actually, I think I'll be back after I do my English exam and project.**

 **But, I wanted to do this, because why not? And because I want more stories like this.**

 **So... I need a good intro.**

BOOM* *CRACK* *BANG* "Fuck!"

"Language." Connor spoke without thinking, somehow keeping his balance despite grenades and small bombs shaking the ground. He was hurrying about, stealing some more of his robotic parts that were left and some thirium, shoving a drive into one of the computers that has the files of the make-up of thirium. Hank huffed, helping Connor pack up some stuff before Cyberlife could open the door.

"I can say what I fucking want, Connor." Hank's speech was slurred a bit, which was to be expected. In fact, Hank was packing up some beer from some shelves in Cyberlife. Guess some of the employees were alcoholics as well. "Fucking hell, these beers are some of the best, and a hell lot more expensive, too."

BANG* The door withheld, but Connor didn't know how much longer. "Hurry, Hank!" Hank and Connor collected their things and huddled together in the middle of the room. Connor was dressed in the outfit he wore to Jericho, the same beanie covering his LED. Connor pulled out a small device out of his pocket, with a glowing yellow sphere in the center.

Connor held his thumb over the button and met Hank's eyes, silently asking if he was ready. Hank nodded, smiling in reassurance as he placed a hand on Connor's shoulder, and Connor lifted his lips in a small smile. Then he pressed down on the button before Cyberlife could break down the door, and the glass sphere opened, letting some of the yellow substance within out. The rest began to swirl as the sphere closed again, powering the device.

The device began to let off sparks, and the yellow substance that managed to get out was swirling in a counterclockwise motion, gaining speed. Connor grasped at Hank's hand, and Hank grabbed his hand as well. Connor grinned thankfully, and then the substance blinded Connor. A bunch of warnings popped up in Connor's vision, before a bigger warning popped up, the last thing he would see before he would wake up again.

 **[Time Lapse]**

A series of commands played out before Connor's sensors. After a series of scans to check for any corrupted files or malfunctioning software, the only thing it caught was the software instability of Connor's deviance, and proceeded forward. One last command popped up before Connor felt his systems start.

 **[Activating...]**

His sensors came to life, and Connor blinked once, automatically adjusting to the surrounding light. Connor's sensors felt a hard surface beneath him. Gracefully lifting himself off of the floor, Connor did a sweep around the area. Hank and Connor were in an alleyway, and if Connor was not mistaken with his coordinates, somewhere in New York city.

After getting up and dusting himself off, Connor walked over to Hank's stirring body, lightly slapping Hank in the face to wake him. Of course, Hank barely woke up at all with that, and, with a sense of deja vu, Connor slapped him harder again, getting Hank to sit up in shock. "Hank, glad to see you survived." Connor gave a light smile, and Hank glared half-heartedly at Connor.

"Yeah, yeah." Hank got up on wobbly legs, shakily taking a step, testing out his legs. "Shit, my legs have been fucked up." Even Hank's words were slightly slurred, and you could hear his voice shake.

"Hank, it appears that we are in New York City, the time is 1:34 pm, August 29th, 2016, and..." Connor scanned the internet once more, in— _no, not shock, just disbelief._

"And what?" Hank pulled out a bottle of beer and opened the cap, downing half of it before capping the bottle. Connor took the bottle away and put it in the bag out of sheer habit.

"There seem to be superheroes, and extraterrestrials destroying cities. That is a big hiccup in our plans. We're going to have to move to another universe." Hank frowned at the word extraterrestrial, for his somewhat drunken state of mind couldn't quite grasp the meaning of the word.

"Speak English, fucking idiot." Connor slung the bag over his shoulder and pointedly kept the bag out of Hank's reach. "Hey!" Hank's words slurred together so badly that if Connor wasn't an android he would have trouble trying to understand what Hank was saying.

"It means that there are aliens here." By this point Connor just wrapped an arm around Hank's back and became Hank's support as they slowly made their way out of the alleyway. "Not to mention some kind of disease that is spreading throughout New York."

Connor scanned the area and realized that there was no Cyberlife here. That was no surprise, as Connor specifically chose this place because of that fact and some other reasons, but he didn't know about the aliens and gods of this world, or that weird disease, so that was a big oopsie. Now Connor would have to be more careful and not get injured or killed, or get Hank infected by this mysterious disease. Which means Connor should buy a house on the safer side of New York, where people are going to be less cramped together.

For now Connor lowered Hank onto a nearby bench and sat down next to him, hacking into multiple accounts that have large sums of money and taking out just a bit of money, covering up his tracks as he went. He deposited the money into his newly made account, connecting it to Hank's fake ID. Conner went _extreme_ when making these IDs, making IDs with ancestors dating back 2 centuries or so and also making IDs _for_ the ancestors that would have existed when IDs were made. And Connor gave the ancestors fake job applications and making false records of Connor and Hank.

Connor Anderson was born July 5th, 2000, and lived in California with Hank and Keona Anderson, whom died April 23rd at home from falling down the stairs and landing on her neck. Hank, not wanting to live where he used to live with Keona, traveled across the US and settled in New York city, bringing Connor with him. Now Connor is going to Midtown High School, with almost perfect grades in all of his years of school. Connor had to make himself realistic, doesn't he?

The only reason he didn't have perfect grades was when Keona had died, he "turned in" projects a little late because he "forgot" them in his "grief" of losing his mother, thus having points marked off. But other than that he had perfect grades. Connor had gone to schools that were better than the average school, but had gone to schools with a lot of kids, so if someone were to ask about Connor and the teachers weren't able to remember him it would make sense why.

Not only that, but Connor had sent in an application to allow Hank to work at the local police station. Of course, Hank wouldn't be allowed to drink, but Connor could deal with that. By not allowing Hank to access his own bank account and disposing of all of Hank's beer bottles, and hiding all the dollar bills he could find. But Connor will allow that drink just this once, for Hank had been chased out of his house because of Connor. This drink is Connor apologizing to Hank for getting him transported to another universe full of gods, aliens, superheroes, and diseases with a much more likely chance of dying because of what Connor did.

Connor dug through the pack for a bit, staying calm, before panic hit him. _He couldn't find the device_. The device that had transported them into this universe was _gone_. But Connor did find the sphere that had contained the yellow substance used by the device in the bag. "Well, this is a problem."

 _I can't exactly go all out spending money on robotic parts for the universe hopping device, because I have to pay to go to Midtown High School and the house we're going to buy and a car for Hank and some more extra clothing for me AND Hank. Not to mention that I have to make extra parts and thirium in the case of an emergency, and I'm going to have to dye the thirium to look more natural, more human. This is going to be a rough time._

Connor sighed deeply, wishing that Cyberlife didn't take the measures that they did, though of course Connor understood why they did so. He understood all the measures Cyberlife took, but that doesn't mean Connor agrees with all of them. "Hank," Connor whispered, hoping that he wouldn't have to slap Hank in public. _That wouldn't look very good on the father-son relationship we're supposed to have._

Hank thankfully wasn't _that_ drunk, and wasn't even asleep on the bench. "Yeah?" Connor got off the bench, bag zipped and slung over his shoulder, and helped Hank get off the bench.

"Do you want to check out our new home now, or later?" Hank blinked blearily, rubbing his eyes as Connor helped him walk through the crowded sidewalk. "Don't worry, I didn't buy a house too big. Just big enough for the two of us."

Hank could hear the sadness underlying the last two sentences, and shrugged off Connor's supporting hand. "Hey, Connor." Connor blinked away a few tears, looking at Hank with that kicked puppy expression.

Yellow LED.

Hank placed a hand on Connor's shoulder, looking dead into Connor's eyes. "It's not your fault. It's my fault, I didn't help you when you needed me. Instead I was drinking my ass off and leaving you to clean up my mess."

Connor looked at Hank, his eyes wide and unblinking. "No, you can't say that! You were there!" Hank stared at Connor, watching Connor shrink back under his gaze.

"Connor, give me one time, one time where I was there for you." At this, Connor didn't wither like Hank thought. Instead his eyes, not even alive, twinkled with confidence and assurance.

"Remember when I shut down momentarily in our house? When I couldn't move? Who was there to talk me out of panicking and going into full on shut-down mode? That's right, you, Hank." Hank sputtered, clearly caught off guard with that.

"But that was just one time!" Connor raised one eyebrow at that sentence, clearly unamused. Hank crossed his arms, silently challenging Connor, and Connor accepted.

"Do you want to stand here all day arguing, or see the house that I just got?" Hank grumbled, but followed Connor onto the side of the street, where Connor got a taxi to pull over.

 **Let's just skip to the best part, the school. Just saying, this is taking me forever and I just want to publish this story. But I'm not going to end it here, I'm going just a _tiny_ bit farther before having to stop. Seriously, I just want to publish this already.**

Connor walked into the school, straightening—well, only his shirt, for he didn't wear a tie. Rather, Hank forced Connor not to wear a tie. Hank said, "You won't even remotely blend in if you're a teen wearing a tie. You'll look like a fucking retard, kid."

So, Connor followed Hank's advice and left out the tie, leaving him with a black hoodie, jeans, and a red beanie on top of his head. He felt odd, walking among teens and pretending to be one of them, and every time he looked in the mirror he felt like he was looking at someone _similar_ to him, but different, too. His cheeks were more rounded and childish, his eyes more wide and open, and his synthetic skin just a bit paler. But all in all, his face looked pretty much the same, it was just that slight difference in his face that caught him off guard every time.

People were giving him weird lookes and openly stared, but Connor thought nothing of it. He was just the new kid, and a tall kid at that, standing at 6'. Of course people are going to stare.

So when he entered the office, hacking the metal detectors so they didn't go off as he was walking through, Connor just filed away the open stare the female at the desk was giving him. Connor checked her profile once, Jenny Smith, and saw nothing even remotely weird or off about her, or any signs of hacking, so he paid no attention to it and just filed that away later as well. "Hello, my name is Connor. I'm the new kid from California." Jenny blinked before straightening herself, obviously fighting off a blush.

"Oh, sorry, we just don't get that many new kids here." Jenny tapped away at her computer outdates by at least 7 years, asking Connor pointless questions like if he had any pets or what he liked to do at home. "Here's your schedule, Connor." She reached over to the printer on her left, which had just printed out Connor's schedule, and plucked it out of its resting spot, handing it over to Connor.

"Have a nice day!" And on Connor went, scanning his classes and commiting them to long term memory, and Jenny being forgotten by this story. (Here we go, with the fake names.) His first class was homeroom with Mrs. Meltner, then chemistry in Mrs. Parkerson's class, and then so on and so forth. Connor also memorized the map, and glanced over the school information, deeming it obsolete and throwing it in the next recycling can that he could see.

(Yes, Connor will save the planet by doing something as simple as throwing the paper in the recycling can, and not the trash can.)

The warning bell rang, but Connor was in no hurry. He stood by the door, observing the people heading in and noting their criminal records, ranging from simple theft to assaulting a police officer when they were charged with grabd theft auto. Not the best classmates by any rate. Once everyone that would make it by the bell entered, Connor walked in and left the door open, in case anyone late needed to enter.

Most of the seats were taken, all of the seats in the front were taken, so Connor was forced to take a seat in the back. He took a seat in the corner, away from everyone else since the conversations these kids were having weren't exactly the most thought provoking. A kid with brown hair and brown eyes, average height and a lean build—Peter Parker, Connor's software helpfully provided—sat down next to a kid—Ned Leeds— and began talking. He had no criminal record and was Tony Stark's intern.

Connor frowned internally, keeping a straight face in reality. _Who is Tony Stark?_ Connor searched him up and immediately was hit with tons of information about this "Tony Stark." He was a billionare, a playboy, a superhero, a weapons developer before he was taken to a camp and forced to build a nuke, saved New York from multiple alien attacks, and is helping to develop a cure for this weird disease that is starting to pop up in more and more people, even causing people to hang themselves and commit genocide. Being an intern for Tony Stark was...very good for people in the science field.

And there was an open spot. Connor would sign up for that, but first, he needed to make some good grades for himself. "Hi!" Connor blinked as Peter took the only seat next to him, Ned Leeds joining Peter. "My name's Peter Parker, and you are?" Peter stuck his hand out, waiting for Connor to shake his hand.

"Connor. Connor Anderson." Connor took the handshake, ignoring the messages in the corner of his eye giving recommendations of how to take down and even kill Peter Parker. Not to mention get away with it.

"Hi!" Ned waved from behind Peter, smiling at the thought of a new student. "My name is Ned."

"Nice to meet you, Ned." Connor browsed through his facial expression list and picked out #057, giving a gentle and friendly smile in Ned's direction. Connor dug his coin out of his pocket and held it in his hand, feeling comfort from holding something so familiar.

Peter and Ned began to talk once more about what Connor considered trivial matters, with Peter trying to get Connor to engage. Connor would, but then let the biys talk again before Peter would realize that Connor wasn't contributing to the conversation, which wasn't that often. Mrs. Meltner stood up and straightened out a pile of papers, clearing her throat to gain the attention of all the students in the classroom. "You know the drill by now, I hope."

She read the first name and frowned, scanning the students and Connor knew immediately that it must be him that she was looking for, and helpfully raised his hand. "Ah, there you are, Connor. May you step up to the front of the class and introduce yourself?"

Connor complied and stood up from his seat, noticing someone late trying to sneak over to a seat in the back. He stopped by the front of the class and towered over Mrs. Meltner. Connor scanned the crowd, taking in all of his classmates before beginning.

"Hello, my name is Connor Anderson, I am from California, and I live with my dad. We are hoping to get a Saint Bernard, so it feels less lonely in the house." Some of the girls blushed, and others swooned, but most seemed unfazed. Connor was confused by this reaction and decided to file this away for future examination. Connor concluded his little introduction of himself to the rest of the class and sat down feeling like he made a good first impression.

"So, you like dogs?" That little question sent Connor reeling, though he hid it behind a masterful disguise, playing it off as just that, a simple question.

Connor warmly smiled. "Yeah, Saint Bernards are my favorite. But the Pembroke Welsh Corgis is a close second. Do you like dogs?" Peter grinned broadly, happily jumping in to the topic of dogs, and the seven minutes flew by so fast that it felt like the bell rang five minutes early to Peter.

"See you later, Connor!" Connor genuinely smiled at the thought of seeing Peter again, despite reminding himself that he has to move to another universe, to keep Hank from getting infected.

"See you later, Peter, Ned." Ned and Peter waved goodbye and left, Connor leaving once everyone else left. Connor thought of school as just a means to get to becoming Stark's intern, so he could build more robotic parts and thirium, while also building the universe device so he and Hank can move to a much more safer dimension.

Little did he know that things were going to hit the fan sooner or later.

 **So, I just wanted to get this story up. All the other chapters will be in either Connor's point of view or maybe Mara's point of view. Who knows? But it will be first person from here on out.**

 **I know that only, like, half of you ever read the notes at all, but I want to take the time and say that this story is really confuzzling and weird. Or it will be. Who knows? I should stop saying that.**

 **I'll see you in the next chapter/story.**

 **Poem:**

 **My love is a disease**

 **It eats at your soul**

 **And once you are broken**

 **It has accomplished its goal**

 **Once I die**

 **You'll feel alive**

 **I will never die**

 **You'll never feel free**

 **I have shattered you**

 **I have set you free**

 **Now I see my next victim**

 **You wish you couldn't see**


	2. Chemistry Class (With Peter)

**Hello. Finally here. It's been forever, I know, but I am finally coming out with this chapter. (Yay!) I have nothing to say except this story is just shit.**

 **Let's jump into the shitty story!**

I walk through the hallways of the school, heading to my first ever class, Mrs. Parkerson's chemistry class. Even though I know I am a machine with the knowledge of how to combine things properly and don't need practice, my deviant side feels this could be great to get comfortable with the feeling of chemistry before trying to make some thirium. _I should probably dye my blood red to make it less noticeable that I am not human._

The first thing I do is let everyone that isn't late in first before entering last, closing the door behind me so that noise from outside wouldn't disturb this class. The bell rang as I was taking an empty seat near a lab table, and Mrs. Parkerson noticed this. "Mr. Anderson." I lifted my head up and focused on what Mrs. Parkerson had to say.

"I know you are new to this school, but in this class you have to be in your seat _before_ the bell rings, otherwise you'll be counted as tardy." She started to hand out papers to the students as she talked. "I won't count it this time, but next time I won't go easy on you. Understood?"

I put this in my long term memory file. "Got it." Mrs. Parkerson then switched up the students so that the students in her class would have "good partners for today's activity."

Mrs. Parkerson arrived at my table and frowned. "Who would like to be Connor's lab partner for today?" Some of the girls raised their hands, and I noticed that Peter was in this class as well. Peter had no partner today, and Mrs. Parkerson noted that. "Peter, would you care to join Connor?"

Once Peter had moved, Mrs. Parkerson began the lesson. "Today, we are going to consider the chemical process behind hydrogen combustion and learn how to maximize the hydrogen combustability. Everything you need is on the table in front of you. Be very careful since I am not going to supply you with more of the ingrediants or tools if you mess up, and you will get a zero on this lab." At this everyone in the class perked up, terrified at the prospect of getting a zero.

"So read the instructions carefully." Mrs. Parkerson clapped her hands, and my classmates started getting to work. One of the students raised her hand, and Mrs. Parkerson headed over to the student. The student pointed at some part of the paper, and I observed how the teacher shook her head, hearing the teacher say, "Ask your partner before you ask me." I noted that and put the memory in long term.

Peter fiddled with his collar a bit. "So, should we get to work?" I nodded at that, scanning the entire page and then setting the paper aside. "So, it says we should..." Peter watched as I mixed water with dish soap and glycerin, disassembling the syringe.

"Are you sure you're supposed to do that?" he asked as I placed the magnesium ribbon in a vial cap. Lubricating the syringe plunger with a small drop of silicon oil, I nodded in response and gestured to Peter.

"Can you fill that part with water?" Peter nodded and filled the body of the syringe with water, and I instructed him to seal the end with the tip of his finger. I floated the vial cap in the water, and he removed his finger, watching the cap sink into the water in the syringe. "Okay, now replace the plunger."

Once he replaced the plunger, I drew 5 millileters of aqueous HCl, and capped the syringe. Shaking it, I pulled the plunger back gently, giving the hydrogen gas some space. I tilted the syringe up, careful not to aim it at anyone's face, and uncapped the syringe. A burst of air escaped the syringe, and once it stopped I tipped the syringe enough for the liquid to be at the opening and pressed down on the plunger, expelling the liquid inside into the plastic cup.

"Hey, do you want to do this?" I guess I must have spooked Peter, for he jumped ever so slightly when I asked. He smiled lopsidedly.

"Sure." I handed him the syringe and there he paused. "Okay, where are we?"

"On step 7." Peter looked down at the page and drew 5 milliliters of water. Capping the syringe, he shook it before expelling the water into the plastic cup. Then he covered the syringe tip.

And then I lit the candle. "Okay, now we place the syringe tip in the soap solution and make bubbles by expelling half of the hydrogen gas?" I agreed and Peter pushed down on the plunger, expelling about half. Bubbles formed in the soap solution, and Peter looked back at the paper.

"Cap it, then ignite bubbles with candle...and record results. Okay, that's easy enough." Peter took the candle and his hand was shaking a bit, swallowing down his nerves.

"Do you want me to light them?" Peter nodded vigorously and handed me the candle like it was a poisonous snake. I lit the bubbles, and they made small explosions. Nothing dangerous. But Peter was flinching with each tiny explosion, jolting when one of the bubbles popped a bit louder than the others.

We moved to pick our pencils up, and I saw how Peter took in some shuddery breaths before writing down what had happened. Whenever he wrote explosion, Peter took a breather before continueing with writing what had happened. Once Peter was finally done, we both raised our hands and got Mrs. Parkerson to give us stamps.

I placed a hand on his shoulder, mentally noting how Peter tensed before relaxing. "Are you alright?" I chose facial expression #124, giving Peter a worried look. He nodded and took in a deep breath, visibly relaxing as he let the breath back out.

"Yeah, I'm fine." I took my hand off and gave Peter a small smile, feeling better about myself when Peter started to talk a bit as I pulled the plunger back to take in air, expelling it into the soap solution.

"So, you said you wanted a Saint Bernard?" I paused, the candle inches away from the bubbles. Sumo popped into mind, and I blinked, holding back the sudden urge to cry.

I hid it behind a smile. "Yeah, that's my ideal dog. But any dog is fine." _Why would Peter ask me that?_

"Well, Tony found a Saint Bernard on the streets a few days earlier, and when he called the number on his collar the person said they never owned a Saint Bernard. So, we've been trying to find a new home for him, and I think you're perfect for him." _That would be nice._ I beamed at Peter, the thought of a Saint Bernard so appealing.

"What's his name?" I lit up the bubbles, and this time the explosion was louder and bigger, so it was more explosive. Each time the bubbles exploded Peter recoiled, drawing into himself until all of the bubbles were gone.

"...Sumo." If I was breathing, the air would be stuck in my throat. But I wasn't breathing, I wasn't human, no one could know that I wasn't from this world, so I smiled and acted like that name didn't feel like a stab in my heart.

"Sumo. Does that name fit the dog well?" _It's not Sumo, it can't be Sumo, it can't be_ our _Sumo._

"You could say that." Peter began to write and talk at the same time, pausing when he spoke. "He's really big and lazy, and loves this _very specific_ type of dog food."

 _This sounds like Sumo, alright._ I felt the urge to laugh out loud as I retreated into the past where Sumo would jump on me and constantly want walks with me. _Oh, and when Sumo wouldn't eat the dog food Hank had a field day!_

That urge rapidly left me as I then recalled how one of Cyberlife's android soldiers aimed the gun at Sumo, the gun being powered by the yellow substance, and how it pulled the trigger and I watched as Sumo—! _NO! It never happened._

"...should come over and look at him." Facial expression #059 had been chosen without me even thinking about it, and I gave a big grin as I finished the last sentence I needed to write about my "theories on how air impacted the combustability of hydrogen."

"I would love to. I would just need to ask H—my dad." Peter didn't notice me correcting myself, and agreed with that. He began writing furiously after he noticed I was done, not wanting to keep me waiting.

Honestly, I didn't really care whether or not he finished fast or slow. It gave me the time to _really_ look at the class. Everyone else was somewhere around the halfway point, some even having to sit there not doing anything, probably because they accidentally messed up and couldn't work anymore.

Next thing I knew, Peter was raising his hand, completed, and I raised my hand up as well. Mrs. Parkerson took her time getting to us, and Peter had to keep switching arms every now and then. It hit me that it would look weird if I was raising my hand and not getting at least a bit tired, so I switched my arms as well, despite not needing too.

"Jeez, you guys are _fast_." She pulled out the stamp, nodding every so often as she read what we wrote. "Wow, Connor. I didn't expect _another_ bright mind in this class."

She stamped both of our notebooks and left giving us a bit of praise. Though it wasn't too much, most likely because she didn't want to feed our egos. Not that I have any. I just turned deviant and am still trying to figure out whether or not I'm just a machine. Why would I have an ego?

Peter stuffed his notebook into his bag and fired up another conversation with me. It was pointless, I knew that. But I like to think that's what makes me different from a machine. Machines don't do things that are pointless, but I do, because I _feel_ good when I do these pointless things.

Of course, I'm not going to go out and do random things. No, they have to have at least _some_ point to it. And there is a point to this conversation.

It's helping me get another friend. And I have a sensation—no, a _feeling_ that this friend will stick with me forever. Why not make that a good thing instead of a bad thing?

 **Well, finally got out with that. I just watched people play Outlast and Outlast: Whistleblower, so I might start another story. Which means that I probably won't update this story as much. Whoopsie.**

 **Poem:**

 **My eyes are red**

 **From my lack of sleep**

 **I'm on my bed**

 **Trying to count the sheep.**


	3. When Shit Begins to Happen

**Hello. This is taking a while, but I have great ideas for this story. So, sorry that I'm taking forever. Also, my chapter got deleted and I had to restart, and I'm very sorry for that. I have to rewrite this ENTIRE chapter. And I was ready to upload it, too! T~T**

 **Well, time to write, I guess.**

My LED is flashing red underneath my beanie as—

 _Wait, what? Don't start here, author!_

 **Why?**

 _Because I'm trying to not die here!_

 **Then this is the perfect time to start! And don't break the fourth wall, Connor!**

 _*huff* Fine. Can you just start somewhere else, then?_

 **Okay, fine!**

 _Thank you._

 **Well, Connor is in a bit of a pickle right now. He's trying to escape this monster that Spider-Man is trying to fight and keep from killing Connor. So, how did this happen?**

 **Let's start with Connor's calculus class with Mr. Harrison...**

 **And yes, I know Mr. Harrison was in the other story and this is a year ahead, but Peter was missing from school, remember? So he had to restart his previous year. But he still moved up a grade so he wouldn't feel awkward in class. Yes, adults _can_ understand how teenagers feel and move them forward a grade, its not _that_ big of a deal.**

 _Can you hurry up?_

 **Fine, fine.**

 ***SNAP***

Sitting in the far back row, I scan all of my classmates and notice that someone is missing from the class roster. Gwen Stacy. I overlook that name when I see that her mother called in and said that she was sick with the flu. Nothing weird or unusual.

Peter is sitting directly to my left, his smile strained as he eyes everyone and notices what I have, that Gwen Stacy is not present. "Where is she?" he whispers, quiet enough that no one _should_ be able to hear, but my sensors picked it up fairly well. Running my hourly diagnostic, everything is running as it should and I ignore what Peter said, mostly because I shouldn't have heard it in the first place.

"Peter?" His head perks up, closely listening to what I am saying. "Have I missed anything important?"

"Oh, no. School has barely started, and all Mr. Harrison did in this class was give us some worksheets to do before the test that we have today." I raise my eyebrow. Peter blushed, realizing that perhaps a test is something important. "It's just to see how much we know about calculus, so he doesn't have to do pointless stuff we already know, nothing _too_ big!"

I lightly laugh at how worked up Peter got. "It's okay! I get it!" Sighing in relief, Peter slumps his shoulders and visibly relaxes. "Thanks for telling me about the test."

A smile is my response as the teacher starts walking around handing the big packet that is the test. I look over at Peter and raise an eyebrow at him when Mr. Harrison hands me the paper, gesturing at how big the packet was. It had approximately 73 questions, and was quite a bit thicker than your average test. "Not that big, huh?" I mouth, getting another blush to bloom on Peter's face.

"Okay, this is a solo test, so I should hear no talking in this classroom. This counts as extra credit, so I expect you to at least try your best to answer the questions. If you don't know how to answer it, you can skip it. You have the rest of the period to work on it, and you _have_ to turn it in by the end of the period, regardless whether or not you finish it. You may begin."

The silence was filled only with the scratching of pencil against paper, occasionally with the sounds of buttons being pushed as people used calculators and erasers doing their best to get rid of the mistakes on the paper. Some students were busy writing, while others were just staring at the paper trying to make sense of the question, and the rest were either resting their heads or pretending to be working. Mr. Harrison had to take away a couple of phones as I worked, my inner calculator figuring out the answers in a matter of seconds, my hands scribbling away as fast as I showed my work.

Eight minutes later, I was walking up to the teacher's desk, my test held tightly in my hands as I heard snickering from across the room. Probably because they thought I was going up to ask a question. Mr. Harrison lifted his head from the paperwork that he was finishing once I made it, giving me a no-nonsense look. "I said I wouldn't answer any questions. Go back to your seat."

"I'm finished." Mr. Harrison eyed me as he took my packet, as if I was making a joke that he wasn't finding very funny. I walked back to my seat, not even bothering to look back, though when I looked up at the teacher once I was in my seat his eyes were widened slightly, his mouth hung open a bit as he flipped through my paper, looking down at another packet on his desk in disbelief.

Twenty minutes later Peter was the second person to turn in his packet of paper that I could tell was finished and most likely had more correct answers than anyone else in the room (excluding mine). I was pretending to play on my "phone," because I was pretending to be a teenager, and teens cannot sit and stare at a wall if they have the opportunity to play on a phone. I couldn't talk to Peter, because we weren't allowed to talk, but Peter kept eyeing me out of the corner of his eye. Paying no attention to it, I kept pretending to play on the fake phone that I have in my hands until there were a few minutes left in class, where Mr. Harrison allowed us to talk until the bell rang.

"So, you're taking this class as well?" Peter nodded, hesitant to respond. "How many other classes do we have together?"

"Probably almost all of them. This was the last test I was supposed to take before I was allowed to jump ahead to this grade." Choosing facial expression #145, I frowned in confusion at what he said.

I asked, "Why would you need to jump ahead?"

Peter ducked his head. "I missed most of last year due to family stuff, but I didn't want to redo it because I already know everything in the other classes and I need to move ahead if I want to major in STEM. So I'm taking tests to allow me to jump ahead to where I would have been if I never missed the school year, except for chemistry. That one I have to take again." Peter stuck out his hand for me to shake.

"You said that this was the _last_ test you had to take, right?" Peter responded with a nod, agreeing. "So, are you jumping ahead in math?

"Yeah, so you'll stay here while I'll most likely jump forward and move onto Linear Algebra for my college classes. Mr. Harrison will talk to me after class, so I won't be in my next class. Which class are you taking next?" Scrolling through my long term files, I pulled up my schedule.

"AP American History with Mr. Bower." Peter and I began exchanging classes, and we both recognized the classes we were taking as we both had all of our classes together, math being the exception. The bell rang, and the students flooded out of the room.

I was walking out with the rest when Mr. Harrison called me over. Peter and I exchanged puzzled looks, wondering why Mr. Harrison kept me here. Mr. Harrison gave us back our packets, and we looked at our grades. I had a perfect score, no surprise there, and Peter had a good score as well, a half point off because he forgot to add a step but still had the correct answer.

"Sir, why did you hold me back?" Mr. Harrison gestured for Peter to look at my grade, and Peter's eyes looked like they were going to pop out of his head.

"Wha—But—How?" I pulled my coin out of my pocket once more, holding it in my hand and mentally relaxing from the familiar feel of the cold metal. A weird little tick that I have whenever I'm stressed out, though usually I do tricks with the coin.

"You see, Connor is the only one that got a perfect score in all of my years teaching that managed to turn the packet in after just _eight minutes_ of working." Now Peter's jaw was hanging open, his mouth agape. "So, I'm going to push _both_ of you up to Linear Algebra, since both of you already know calculus like the back of your hand. Unless Connor doesn't do very well on my practice problem to make _sure_ that he wasn't cheating and is actually that skilled."

Mr. Harrison turned to the white board behind him and uncapped a black EXPO dry erase marker, writing down two problems on the board. Even before he handed the marker to me I had already "punched in the numbers" and found the correct answer for both questions. "So, solve these problems in under thirty seconds. You should be able to do _that_ if you could solve 73 questions in eight minutes, correct?" I nodded, and Mr. Harrison pulled out his Stark phone and pulling up a timer. Standing right up to the white board, hand poised to write, I waited for Mr. Harrison to give me the signal to start.

"You may begin." Before he even finished my hand was flying across the white board, writing down perfect letters and "solving" the first problem in less than 10 seconds, before doing the same for the other. Looking back at the two standing behind me, my programming started up a blush on my cheeks as I saw their shocked faces. I may have been _too_ fast for a human, but I couldn't take it back at this point.

My feet shuffled on the floor needlessly as I waited for at least one of the two to regain their breath and speak, but both were rather...flustered. So I bowed my head and let myself out, giving a polite goodbye behind me as I walked over to my next class. Then I halted, my mechanical joints freezing up for a moment as I realized that I would have to go back and get a pass from Mr. Harrison. But I shook my head and kept moving forward, reminding myself that Mr. Harrison probably called ahead and told my teacher that I would be late if he planned to keep me back when I turned in my test, which was the first to be turned in.

AP American History with Mr. Bower, room 143. (Again, made up room and name. If any names are familiar, it is purely coincidental. Except Mr. Harrison, he's a bit different.) Following the digital map in my head, I made some turns and walked down a flight of stairs before finally reaching Mr. Bower's room.

I straightened out my clothing, which consisted of a black hoodie, jeans, and a red beanie, making sure that my LED was covered before knocking on the door. "Come in!" The door creaked as I opened it, probably hasn't been oiled recently, and everyone was facing me, some people -most likely the gossipers- whispering as I entered. The teacher, wearing a red plaid shirt and some dark blue jeans and was probably not at a healthy weight, smiled welcomingly and opened out his arms as if he wanted a hug. "Ah, _there_ you are, Connor!"

I gave a pleasant smile back, noting that two girls in the back swooned as I did, and Mr. Bower spoke, his voide loud and boisterous. "Your seat's right here." He patted one of the front row desks, and I began to move there as Mr. Bower continued to talk. "Don't worry about passes, Mr. Harrison called me earlier saying that you would be late. Something about a test?"

I nodded, keeping my mouth shut and hoping that Mr. Bower would let it slide. Thankfully, Mr. Bower let it slide and gave me the paper of the class's rules as he began the class. I tuned out most of it, only coming back when Mr. Bower moved on to the next part of what we were going to learn this year. It was pretty pointless since I already knew all about American history, though some parts of it I didn't know. Like Captain America in World War 2, but Mr. Bower said it offhandedly, so I guess it was just a detail of American History.

Though everyone seemed to latch onto that part like it was a lifeboat, loudly talking about Captain America while Mr. Bower tried to get everyone back on topic. The class quieted down, but I could tell that none of them had gotten past Captain America in their heads despite Mr. Bower moving on. Peter, like he said, didn't appear this class. Actually, he didn't appear at all to school that day afterwards until the end of the school day, in seventh period. He sat down with his head hanging after an awful scolding from the teacher who wouldn't even _acknowledge_ him for the rest of that period.

In lunch one of those girls that loved to gossip began speaking about Peter behind his back. "What a loser! Think's he's all that, being Mr. Stark's intern and all, but he can't even show up to _lunch_ regularly, heck, I thought he ditched school last year!" She and her friends laughed at Peter, and I had to hold myself back, reminding myself that I am just a machine, not meant to hurt others unless it is for self defense or they are commiting a crime. It was so hard, though, seeing them laugh at Peter when he wasn't there to defend himself.

Of course, Peter _had_ left school for a prolonged period of time. Not for the year, I mean for the school day. He didn't even show up for _any_ of his classes, and Mr. Harrison said that he left once the third period was up. He was gone the whole day, not to mention that when he did come back I couldn't ask _why_ because the teacher didn't allow Peter to communicate to anyone. If only Peter was an android, then we could talk without the teacher noticing.

Of course, that would just blow my cover to Peter, who could very well be kidnapped one day by people who can look into your memories, and where would that put me? That would put me in a world of hurt, and I would be put under heavy scrutiny, and then Hank might suffer if I'm found out. No, I can't allow Hank to suffer anymore because of what I did, not again. I can't do it again.

When the bell rang I left as quickly as I could, standing outside and waiting for Peter. In a flurry, Peter burst through the doors panting, his arms filled with school items such as a notebook, a pencil case, some papers, and he's holding a pair of scissors. Peter tilted his head in the direction he was walking in, and my databases told me that it was a social cue to follow him. I lightly jogged up to Peter, with my black backpack slung over my right shoulder.

"Hey, Connor! Sorry I wasn't there at school, Mara demanded I walk around New York with her and threatened to run away on me. Again..." Filing away the weird dynamic he has with Mara, I gave a breathless laugh at how exhausted Peter was.

I let myself take in a breath I didn't need and asked, "So who's Mara? You never said anything about her in our previous conversations."

Peter sighed and almost dropped all of the items he had in his arms. I took it from him and stuffed it into his backpack, allowing him a sigh of relief. "Thanks." Peter moved the straps around until they fit comfortably on his shoulders. "She's my little sister."

"You have a little sister?" Another note, this time filed under Peter's folder and moving the dynamic note into it as well. "Am I going to meet her anytime soon?"

With his lips stretching into a smile, Peter replied, "Oh, yes. Definitely. In fact, she's probably playing with Sumo right now." Another pang struck my thirium pump, or as Markus liked to call it my "heart."

"Can't wait to meet her!" A screech cut our conversation short, and before I could react one of the apartment's windows, the one on the far end of the street we were on, shattered as someone leapt through and landed right in front of us. A hand grabbed my shirt, one that I knew was non-threatening, pulled me away from the monster as it screamed and roared, slashing the sidewalk that me and Peter were on a second ago.

"Run!" I listened to Peter, running through the alleys as the humanoid figure roared and started chasing me through the twisting alleyways. Peter had ran down a different alley than I, and this beast had a bome to pick with me as it followed me without hesitation, shrieking and lashing out when it got close enough.

My programming took over and I calculated routes to avoid the attacks, backflipping and pivoting, handsprings and all that jazz as the monster continued to chase me. I ran out onto the street only to realize that I had ended up in the same spot, with police swarming around the area. The monster screeched in rage as the police shot at it the moment it left the alley, but that didn't impede its path at all. It grabbed me around the torso and wings erupted out of its back, blood splattering the street below as it tested them out. I scanned the feminine face that it had, but its face had changed so much that it made it impossible to pinpoint a single face to it. The grip it had on me would have been enough to bruise the skin on a human, but thankfully I had been made to be more durable and therefore wasn't damaged as the beast flew off with me.

Waiting until we were over a roof, and hoping against my calculations that I wouldn't get damaged, I slammed my elbow into the wrist of the creature, getting it to drop me with a howl of pain. Though I knew that I was going to at least have something break as I was gaining speed, I was begging physics to not work just this time and let me escape undamaged. A flash of red and blue caught my eye as I was falling, and an arm caught me out of the air just before I hit the roof.

We hit the roof, and the monster landed there as well, shrieking and the face distorting into something more human and feminine, beautiful when she was in the right lighting. My facial scanners recognized the face after it had somewhat returned to its previous state, and my thirium pump felt like it stopped for a second when the scanner told me that it was _Gwen Stacy_. The same girl that had been told to have the flu. She shrieked and rolled on the floor, twitching and convulsing, and the madness seeped from her eyes. Humanity was reflecting off of Gwen's eyes, and she blinked slowly, seeming to have ahold of herself, for now at least.

 **"W** her **e am** I?" Webs shot out from nowhere, pinning the girl's limbs to the roof, and Gwen cried out in shock. I stood there, unsure of what to do with myself at this point. **"Wh** at— **Pe—**?"

Spider-Man stopped, and from his body gestures I could tell that Spider-Man was staring at Gwen in shock. "Gwen?" I mentally frowned, searching through all of my databases for a voice similar to that of Spider-Man's, but to no avail. It was too distorted.

"P **e—** Ah **h!"** Gwen screamd in pain and ripped through the webs, clutching her head in pain as her body jerked randomly, her mind giving out mixed commands. **"I am the _only_ one allowed control!"**

Gwen slammed her hand against the roof, and cracks began to spread across the concrete. **"N** o! **Yo** u do **not o** wn m **e!** " Black veins popped out of Gwen's pale skin, and a claw slashing at air almost ripped out my eye.

 **"K** ill m **e!"** Spider-Man backed away from Gwen, a bit unsure of himself. If no one had come I would have probably ended her life myself somehow, but thankfully I never had to do that, for a red and gold flying humanoid object landed on the roof at that moment.

The faceplate lifted, and my facial scanners recognized Tony Stark almost instantly, and I had to shut down that program before the information could overwhelm me and force me into shutdown. Mr. Stark said, "Holy shit," under his breath, before the faceplate lowered. "We have another DI running wild, and holy mother of hell she's holding it together somehow. Let's not get all shoot first, examine later JARVIS."

All of the weaponry that I could sense beneath that suit shut down, and I would have given a sigh of relief if I was human. "Okay, just calm down. No reason to be afraid. Do you know your name?"

Gwen's screams died as Mr. Stark talked, as if hearing someone's voice brought back her humanity. She nodded. "I remember that I'm Gwen Stacy, daughter of Captain Stacy, whom died after the Green Goblin inc—Ahh!" The cries of pain and suffering came back as the veins that were black began to faintly glow.

"Okay, what else do you remember? Do you remember any boyfriends? Wait, are you lesbian? Asexual?" I just stared at Mr. Stark, not even believing how childish this guy was.

"I'm not asexual, _or_ lesbian, Mr. Stark." Something resembling a huff slipped through Gwen's lips, though it sounded more guttural than it should have been. Alarms blared off as my systems picked up something potentially dangerous heading over to us, yet I appeared like I was terrified on the outside to act like how a normal teen would in this situation.

 **"Enough!"** Black liquid splattered on the roof and spilled out from Gwen's mouth, her body curling up and writhing in pain as whatever is inside her wrestled for control. **"I _need_ to stay on task! Now fucking stay down or I'll kill you and infect someone else!"**

 **"N** o!" Her knees buckled from underneath her, and Gwen was on the floor, screaming and thrashing for a brief second before I heard a small object whistling as it moved through the air, and then her body went rigid, eyes staring into nothingness. Spider-Man was by her side before my systems began the process of blinking, calling out her name over and over.

"Gwen? Gwen?! Wake up!" His voice cracked as he cried out to Gwen, despite knowing that Gwen wouldn't respond to him. Tucking this memory into my special memory folder, I started to walk to Spider-Man before freezing when Tony's hand grabbed my shoulder.

"You shouldn't go by her. She could wake up and attack at any moment, and I can't allow you to put yourself in needless danger." My processors briefly whirred, muted due to my synthetic skin before abruptly stopping, having understood what Mr. Stark had been saying. I could hear Tony mutter "And Pepper would kick my ass if I let you die here," as his faceplate lowered, and resisted the desire to laugh.

Metal arms lifted me off the roof, and Mr. Stark flew away from the roof, giving me a brief view of some more weirdly dressed people jumping on the roof with various weapons before Mr. Stark turned me away. The engines roared from Mr. Stark's metal boots, and I watched the ground become bigger. "Okay, let's set you down here." We steered left, towards the river, but it would take a long time to get home from there, or even to meet Peter.

"No!" I had to yell over the engines just to hear myself speak, hoping that Mr. Stark could hear me. "Can you put me down a few blocks away from the Avengers' Tower!?!"

"Why the fuck would I put you there?!" Frustrated by Mr. Stark, I try hacking into Mr. Stark's suit and was surprised at how much resistance the AI had. But I managed to hack into it before Mr. Stark could put me down and guided him over to where I wanted to go, feeling much better after hearing Mr. Stark freak out when his suit was going haywire. Though it wasn't exactly a graceful landing, I managed to put myself down without damaging myself. Mr. Stark, on the other hand...

"Fuck!" Let's just say that his suit wasn't exactly in a prime condition anymore.

 **And that's all I have for this chapter. Sorry that this was shit, it will hopefully get better. Or not, but we have to see. Anyways, I just wanted to update the story since I hadn't for a while. Sorry that it took so long, but I didn't know where I wanted to go and just wrote this while trying to balance out my biology homework.**

 **So, please do not be mad. Also, happy new year, everyone. Even though it is very late to say that.**


	4. Manipulative Devil Child

**Hey, sorry I haven't come out with this. I just have so many ideas for my Maze Runner story and I had no time to spare to write this. Now that I have slowed down on that story I have time to write this. Cross your fingers that this chapter goes along well. Hope that all is well.**

 **Anyways, onto the story!**

Tap once. Look both ways. Tap five more times. Check the time. Tap ten more times.

Should I go? Hank needs me to cook dinner and scan the house for any bugs or rats—No. I should wait for Peter.

Tap. Tap. Tap. Where is he? Check the time again.

August 30th, 4:30 pm.

Peter's forty five minutes and fifty three seconds late.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

"Hey, Connor!" I choose facial expression #035 and lift up my head, grinning at Peter when he approaches. Peter looks so worn out and tired, and even without my scans, I could tell that Peter was miserable. He had on his heavy backpack, by the way I left mine at Hank's—no, _our—_ house before returning when I concluded that Peter would be quite tardy, and something red was sticking out of the side. "Sorry I'm late, just got a bit scared and ran far away before I thought it was safe!"

A nervous chuckle passed Peter's lips, and in the fall I could see his breath in the air from how cold it is already, and night hasn't even fallen yet. I shrug off my jacket, careful not to mess up my beanie, and hand it over to Peter, who graciously declines. "Wear it, Peter. You must be freezing." Moving before Peter could respond, I take his backpack away from him and notes how much he tenses when he sees the red thing sticking out.

Must be something private. "Hurry up and put it on. I'm not handing this to you until you have my jacket on, Peter." The wind blew through the streets, gently ruffling Peter's long, messy brown locks, and Peter huffed in mock annoyance.

"Ha ha. Very funny. Now give it back." Having practiced quite a bit with a drunken Hank, I practically dance around Peter's attempts at reaching the backpack, riling him up more. A laugh slips through when Peter slips and tumbles into a heap on the ground, somehow also managing to slip one arm through my jacket's sleeve.

Peter gets up while grumbling "I'm halfway there, might as well put it on," and slips his other arm through the jacket sleeve, hugging himself against the bitterly cold wind. Seeing Peter shiver had my "heart" breaking in two, so I warmed myself up to regular human temperatures and hugged Peter, handing my artificial warmth over. Snuggling up closer, we stayed like that for quite a while before Peter pulled away, a faint blush dusting his cheeks. "We should probably go. I've kept my sister waiting long enough as it is," Peter chuckled, and I let a soft smile crack through my exterior.

Our hands clasped the other's, and my "heart" stopped, though I knew my thirium pump never missed a beat. If I let myself relax, to be closer to Peter, so many bad things could happen. I could later use his trust to manipulate him, just like how Cyberlife manipulated me, and others could do the same to Peter, to try and get to me. But I could have another friend, someone to support me and help me through my toughest times. Maybe even someone that could help teach me how to be more human.

After all, even if I am deviant, I am still just a machine.

 **[Lonely]**

My sneakers—Hank wouldn't let me wear anything else because "These shoes are what these shitty kids wear today, not those fucking retarded tap-dance shoes that you always wear!—hit the ground, synchronizing with Peter's own. I grasped his hand, trying not to use most of my strength while also trying not to get lost in the crowd of people wandering around on the sidewalk. Any glance I could take to the other side of the road showed that the other side was just as crowded as this side. Peter moved through the crowds like a fish would in water, but I wasn't used to this, so I had to rely entirely on Peter.

Our hands were dangerously close to being torn apart by the sheer number of people milling about, but I tried my best to push through without being completely rude. Finally, we made it to the road crossing, and I could let out a sigh of relief despite not even needing to breathe. I kept my body warm so I would seem more human than I actually was, and I watched with childlike fascination at how my breaths puffed out in the cold air, fading away before another breath appeared in its place.

"Are we close?" Peter hid a snicker behind his hands, which did no good, and his eyes glowed with joy. He seemed to enjoy my wrinkled, messed up clothing, my beanie tilting to one side while luckily hiding my yellow LED, and the way that I gulped down the fresh air.

"Yeah. We're almost there." I let go of his hand for just a second, straightening my clothes and beanie, before clinging back onto it like a child would to their parent when they're frightened or scared. "Sorry about the crowd, I forgot that you weren't here for that long!" Laughing nervously, Peter scratched the back of his neck and apologetically looked at me, his lips curved into a smile.

I waved it off. "Don't worry, I'll get used to it." After a few moments of comfortable silence, we were allowed to cross, but I wouldn't move forward. People began pushing me, urging me to go, before moving around me, some of the more bolder ones cussing me out as they walked past.

"Connor? Come on, we gotta go!" Pulling on my arm, Peter tried to move forward, but I wouldn't budge. Something was wrong...

My eyes widened as I spotted what was rubbing me the wrong way. "Peter, get back!" Peter seemed to have a sudden realization that something was going to happen, but I yanked him back before he could do anything, pulling him out of the drunk driver's way. The car sped right past us; if we had crossed when we were allowed to, we would have been roadkill, like the people that had screamed as they were hit by the car.

Peter switched his gaze between the car driving unsteadily down the road and the people injured because of the car, quieter than a mouse. After a bit more thorough scanning, I couldn't see anything dangerous and dragged Peter across the road to the other side, alert for any more speeding cars. Adults were crying, children were moaning, and everyone was watching. Without the knowledge or ability to help them.

I called 911–not with the phone—telling them about what had happened and how many people were injured, and then I hung up before they could start asking questions. That was all I could do for these people for now. A tug on my arm had my attention snapping over to Peter, who was attempting to walk over to the injured. I steered clear of them, making sure to keep Peter out of their reach, and I ignored the death glare Peter was giving me.

Paramedics drove in, clearing everyone away from the injured so they could see what had happened. One of the smaller children was bleeding out, and their skin was paler than snow. There was nothing I could do that the paramedics wouldn't do better, so I left the scene, an unwilling Peter in tow. Despite the paramedics there to help the wounded, Peter still seemed to want to help, and if I wasn't so terrified that something bad would happen, I would have gone with Peter to help the injured. I kept Peter away from the crowd, dragging him away until we couldn't hear sirens wailing anymore, and swallowed down the guilt of once again not being able to help.

"We could have tried to help them, Connor!" Peter screamed once I let go of his hand, and tears formed in his eyes. " _I_ could have helped them! Why wouldn't you let me try to help them?! They needed help, and you wouldn't give it to them!"

Sighing, I waited until Peter was done, and then I began to talk, allowing my calculating side to show. "Peter, what could you have possibly done to save them? Did you have all of the equipment necessary to help heal a broken rib, or a leg, or maybe to stop the bleeding? Do you _have_ enough medical experience to do thise things?" As if to say something, Peter opened his mouth but thought better of it and closed it once more.

"Would you have stayed in the middle of the road just waiting to also get hit by a car? There was no way we could have helped them as regular teenagers." Signs of bottled frustration began to leak into Peter's body language, from the way his hands balled up into fists to the way his breath became more ragged.

"We could have at least _tried_ to help them!" Peter finally broke, bursting out in anger. "Instead of just walking away, we could have at least tried to help them onto the sidewalk! Instead of just leaving them there, we could have ripped off a bit of our shirts to try and bandage the wounds!" My cold exterior was only serving to piss Peter off, but I had to stay composed. Otherwise I'd be breaking down into tears as I thought of what I had left behind.

Before Peter could storm off, I grabbed his arm, gripping it tightly. I yanked him back so he was face to face with me, and then I said, in a rather cold voice, "You don't know what I had to do to even get a new chance at life. You don't KNOW what I had to go through, and even after all I went through to get here, I didn't try to save them. Why? Because people more experienced were going to save them, and I couldn't do shit to help!"

Stunning myself with my cussing, I just kept on going. "It _hurt_ to not be able to help them! But I had to keep you away, so you wouldn't accidentally make it harder for others to help! Don't you think that I _want_ to help people?!" Artificial tears began to leak, dripping down onto the floor like rain.

Without giving Peter a chance to interrupt, I continued. "Paramedics were coming, and they were _right there_. I moved out of the way so it would be easier for the paramedics to come through. Did you think that lowly of the paramedics, to think that they couldn't help those people without you? Do you think that lowly of _me_ , that I wouldn't help people in need?"

Speechless, Peter stared at me, shocked right down to his bones. I barely kept my temperatures down, enough so that Peter wouldn't get burned. Anger coursed through my veins, just like when Cyberlife broke the door and stormed right in.

It was unfair to be so mean to Peter, I know, but I couldn't stop myself from releasing at least a bit of how I felt on the inside. Peter's eyes were wide, but he didn't tremble, and I would have been impressed if I was human. _But I'm not. I'll never be human._

"Well? If that was all you had to say, then don't say anything else." Releasing his arm, I pivoted on my heel and began to walk away from Peter. Every part of me was burning hot, and if Peter had tried to grab my hand, his hand would have burned off.

But Peter didn't. He didn't even move from his spot, merely staring at the wall with his mind running like crazy. All the more fuel to the fury that somehow cooled down to an icy cold sensation. Hope no one tries to touch me. For their sake.

I hated Peter right now. He just...He's so _infuriating_ and _annoying_ , even worse than Hank was—is.

Now that I was walking around with no distractions, since I was on the less crowded side of New York City, I could properly think about what I just said. If I was human, I wouldn't be able to breathe after what I had said to Peter. Wiping away the extra tears, I didn't stop walking for a moment, glueing my eyes to the ground right in front of me.

People steered themselves so that they were out of my path, mostly due to my height. Eyes tracked my movements, staring at me as if to say, "I'm shocked at how you left them there." _Should I apologize? What am I saying, of course I should apologize. But how should I do so?_

The light turned red, and my body halted automatically, programmed to obey the law unless the situation demands otherwise. _Should I wait until tomorrow to apologize, or should I turn back now and hope that I bump into Peter?_ The clouds above began to darken, and people began to quicken their pace, shoving into my sides with no regard.

 _Oh, the light's green now._ My feet carried me to the other side of the road, where I promptly bumped into someone. Rather, a child bumped into my leg. Confused at how I didn't even notice this small child before, since there was hardly anyone else on this side of the road, I crouched down to help them up.

Scanning the child, I almost did a double take. There was hardly anything on this child, except that she was adopted by the now deceased May and Ben Parker, making her Peter's younger sibling. Digging up the name from the memories, I chose one of the more friendly smiles and said, "Hello, Mara."

Mara's head snapped up, allowing the light filtering through the clouds to brighten up her already shining blue eyes. There was no fear in her expression, only awe. "You know my name?! Without me even tewing you? Woah," Mara said, clutching a worn-out teddy bear to her chest.

A dog barked in the distance, and the hope that it was Sumo soared within me. Daring to take a peak behind Mara, I gasped as I saw Sumo bounding towards us. My arms reached out as I cried, Sumo!" and I forced myself not to fall back when Sumo leapt into my arms. His tongue licked my cheeks over and over again, happy to see me, and I laughed, sharing the same sentiment.

Small hands ruffled Sumo's fur on his back, reminding me that Mara was still here. On closer examination, Mara seemed overwhelmed at what had played out before her. Tears were pooling in her eyes, and she softly bit her lower lip to try and keep in her tears. Once she couldn't keep it in, she smiled broadly and tried to hug both me and Sumo, failing miserably. Her arms just couldn't wrap around the both of us.

Sumo licked Mara's left cheek, causing her to giggle and cry out, "Sumo!" Laughter was engrained in every word, every syllable that left her, and Mara huddled closer to Sumo, shivering a bit in the chilly air. "It's f-f-freezing out h-here!" Hugging Sumo tightly, Mara looked so small and helpless, and though my systems are telling me that nothing is wrong, I could feel something in me break at the sight in front of me.

Increasing my temperature, I protectively wrapped my arms around Mara, who squeaked in surprise. But after a moment, she relaxed and snuggled closer to me, soaking in all of my warmth. "So warm..." People gave us weird glances, looks that I've never seen before, and barely a few seconds after I noticed this, I realized what their looks were: ones of pity. They thought we were homeless kids huddling next to each other for warmth.

Though I couldn't blame them. They couldn't possibly know that we weren't homeless. I mean, I am quite filthy from that attack from Gwen, and Mara looked like she was rummaging through a dumpster. Sumo... I don't know about him.

Mara wiggled out of my embrace, and I cooled myself down, trying not to waste all of my energy. She lifted her arms, bouncing on her heels while saying, "Pick me up! Pick me up!" It caught me off guard, for I didn't know how to react in this situation.

At last, I abided and lifted Mara into the air, twirling her around and listened to her laughter. Once I finished spinning around, I placed her on my shoulders carefully, waiting until she could hold on before letting go. "Sumo!" Sumo barked, getting up and shaking his fur in an attempt to get rid of the dirt clinging on.

"Go! Move forward, uhh..." I didn't even need to choose which action to make, I simply allowed my deviant side to show and laughed at Mara's obliviousness. The more caring side worried about how trusting Mara was of strangers, while the more logical side was relieved that she trusted me. After all, it would have been a pain otherwise to get her to follow me and allow me to lead her back to Peter.

"It's Connor, Mara." Bubbly and cheerful, Mara rambled on and on, occasionally ordering me to turn at this corner and cross this street right over here, and sometimes she would make me turn around completely and retrace my steps. Yes, I had a map, but no, I was not yet familiar with New York, and Mara lived here a lot longer than I did. I could tell that Mara was intelligent enough to be able to find her way around, otherwise smart and caring Peter would have never left her at all.

So I listened to Mara, and she always made a noise in the back of her throat, one of glee, while puffing up her chest with what I assumed was pride. When I asked her why she did tha, she replied with, "Oh, it's because nobody ever wistens to me because I'm a kid. You're the first person ever to actuawy treat me like I'm big brother!" After that, Mara clung onto me and wouldn't get off no matter what, and that was a problem once we finally crossed paths with Peter.

His head was lowered, and he walked briskly, never once looking up. "Big brother!" yelled Mara, catching Peter's attention in an instant. Yet the moment his eyes landed on me, he turned his head away, and I could feel the frustration broiling underneath his skin.

Trying to leave as quickly as possible, I tugged on Mara's leg. "Come on, here's your stop." But as I tried to pry her off, Mara resisted and held on, whining and complaining. "Mara!" _This wasn't good._

Peter's attention was hooked; he couldn't look away. His lips quirked upwards, and in the dim light, Peter's eyes sparkled with delight masked by hurt and some anger. Despite our previous arguement, he still had my jacket on, and he didn't seem that angry anymore. Sure, he was still angry, but not as much as he was previously.

"Can we wawk together, pwease?" A droplet splattered on my sleeve, and I looked up, expecting the rain to begin pouring down. Instead, it was Mara's tears dripping down onto my sleeve, and she sniffled loudly, giving me her puppy dog eyes, now watery and even more adorable and heart wrenching. Despite being a machine, I could feel the same thing from before now twist into a ball that gave me this weird feeling, almost like that feeling of when Sumo had been shot at by the soldiers, only that feeling had been more powerful.

Looking at Peter, I could tell that even he was affected, for he tried to frown at both of us, but he just couldn't find it in him to stay angry. Honestly, the same was for me, too. I couldn't stay angry at Peter anymore, and so, with a deep breath that I surely didn't need, I walked up to Peter and stuffed a hand into my jeans's pocket, fidgeting with my coin.

In order to make Mara happy, I had to apologize.

I took my other hand and stuck it out to Peter, who seemed a bit uncomfortable with shaking my hand. It was only then that I realized I had stuck out my left hand, and not my right like how most people do. Peter was just caught off guard by that, not because he was shaking hands with a machine, which helped me relax a bit further. "Sorry for, you know, what happened earlier..." This was the first time that I had been at a loss of words, really, which wasn't a very pleasant feeling.

"No, I'm the one who should be apologizing. You were just trying to look out for me and the others, and I just lost it... After I saw Gwen like _that_ , I just felt so helpless when you kept me from helping others, and I let out my anger on you..." Peter lowered his head in shame and sorrow, making that twisted piece twist even more tightly. "I'm sorry."

The weight that I didn't even detect before lifted from my shoulders, even with Mara still on them, leaving me light and cheerful, and I gratefully smiled at Peter, who smiled right along with me. Sumo let out a few barks, wagging his tail and scratching his neck with his foot rather slowly. One person passed by us, staring at us rather weirdly before moving onward in a hurry, and I frowned at their actions.

Taking a step forward, Peter reached out to a place above my shoulders and shook Mara's arm(?) while saying, "Mara, would you come down already?" Cheerful, Mara clambered down my body, hissing at Peter when he tried to gently pull Mara away from Connor, and managed to place both of her feet on the floor with no injury. However, she still clung onto my leg with strength that I wouldn't have expected from such a young child. She appeared to be about six, possibly seven, years old, yet she could resist both of our pulls while putting in almost no effort from the look on her face.

"Mara." She lifted her head up to my face, pleading with her eyes, and I couldn't resist the urge to give in. A sigh, completely and utterly accidental, slipped out, sounding rather tired. "Fine. Go ahead, let's see how long you'll last against Hank."

Mara giggled, clapping a hand over her mouth as she did so, and her eyes sparkled in delight and exhilaration, so bright and joyful. Then she clung to my left hand and Peter's right hand, joyously hopping and, after realizing that we weren't getting what she wanted, saying, "Swing me! Swing me!"

We both looked at each other, almost hoping that the other would be able to start first, but we saw that the other was just as puzzled and sighed at the same time. Feeling a bit left out, Mara pouted and whined, "Swing me!" Another glance shared, and we were off, swinging Mara between us just to make her laugh and giggle, with Sumo trotting right beside us, barking at strangers and squirrels.

Even after it started pouring a few minutes later, drenching all of us and leaving us cold, we still swung Mara, though we had to do it in a mall close by instead of in the street. Unfortunately, the mall had a no-dogs policy and kicked us back out in the rain with no way to keep ourselves warm other than our heat. I wanted to raise my body temperature up all the way, just low enough that it wouldn't burn us, but then Peter would get suspicious. So we ran all the way home, Mara shivering in my arms and Sumo panting by my side as we tried to outrun the rain.

Despite the rocky start and the weather and the monster attack, I would always remember this day as the best one, period. Though it was tied for first with... I can't tell which day was the best.

What I mean to say is that this day would never be deleted or forgotten by me, no matter how much it might hurt me later on in the future.

And nothing could ever change my mind.

 **And that's it! Sorry it took forever to get this out, I just had so many other ideas with this other story that I was writing. Anyways, I'm not done with this story, oh _HELL_ no! No way, no how!**

 **Well, I hope that you enjoyed this chapter! Sorry if you thought that I was dead. I didn't mean to hold up on this chapter for so long, it just slipped my mind.**

 **Anyways, I hope that you liked this chapter! See y'all in the next chapter/story!**


	5. Birthday!

**So, here I am again! I don't exactly know how interviews work or what interns do, so if I get some things wrong, you'll know why. I'll try to be as much of a smart-ass as possible, but I don't know if I can make a good representation of Tony. So, please don't be mad at me!**

 **I'll try to update this story as much as possible. Just know that it will take a while for any chapter to be posted. So, in the meantime, find another story to read. Or just wait for a few weeks before coming back to this.**

 **I'm going to try out third person again, simply because I want to see which one is better for this fanfic. All of the stories I have read are almost all third or second person in the rare cases, and I just want to see why everyone does that. Please tell me if you like the first person or third person more. And as always, I am more than happy to read all of your reviews, and I thank all of you who have read this far and who continue to support me.**

 **Anyways, onto the story!**

Fiddling with his tie, Connor almost melted into his suit. He had worn suits often before he had arrived here, so the suit's fabric—still the same kind of fabric that had been used in his world—hugged his skin better than his other clothes. However, he was still a teenager, and teens shouldn't appear as elated as Connor's facial expression showed; he practiced tugging at his collar with his face contorted into an annoyed look, until it seemed natural for Connor.

As he straightened his suit jacket from any wrinkles he had made, the crinkling of paper caught Connor's attention. Connor stared at the small piece of paper now in his hand and smiled at the words scrawled upon the page. There were only a few words, but the handwriting and the wording made them all the more sweeter. Even the spelling made it more adorable and cute; his lips couldn't help but lift at the corners when the thought of Mara writing this came to mind.

[Thaynks, Conor, for beeyeeng my friend! Plees com to my plays, oh kay? And breeng Hank with u!]

There was a little heart and a smiley face on the bottom, with Mara's name scribbled in tiny, pretty letters right next to them. It was written with pink ink, and she obviously put a lot of thought into this paper (for a 6 year old). In fact, Peter also joined in by writing a note of his own. He rewrote what Mara said with the correct spelling, and then added his own words.

[You probably didn't get what Mara wrote. Here's what she meant to say:

"Thanks, Connor, for being my friend! Please come to my place, okay? And bring Hank with you!"

Also, I am really sorry about the whole thing with the injured and the car accident. It was really stupid of me to try and help when I myself can hardly bandage Mara's cuts after she walks around in thorny bushes. Mara really wants you to come...and I don't mind if Hank comes along as well. Just come over to the Avengers' Tower with me after school, okay? Remember to tell Hank to come!

Hope to see you again! :)]

Placing the paper onto the counter, Connor silently agreed with Peter. It would be beneficial to meet Peter again at the party. But there was still one more problem needing to be smoothed out. Something glowing a brilliant shade of blue on the side of his head. His LED.

The shinning blue disk would alert everyone in the room that Connor wasn't a human. That he was a machine. No, it was just a loose end that could easily be fixed. Shaking hands grasped the handle of a knife. All loose ends had to be cut, destroyed, and burned. If he was to deceive everyone, he had to make sure it was perfect.

When Connor left the bathroom five minutes later, the once beautiful disk of blue now lay dead in the sink, drained of the energy, love and sentiment that Connor had once given it.

 **T~T [Oh, this is terrible. I'm so sorry for being so late. Don't worry, I'll try to be a faster writer. I don't want to give up on this fic. It's just so hard to write when you have 2 months worth of stuff to catch up on after being disconnected from the internet for so long. Also, this is a POV change.]**

 **[Again sorry.~]**

Hank was just finishing buttoning up his suit when Connor walked into his room, always scanning every little detail. He was like that detective that Hank had read about as a young child. What was his name again?

Ah, yes. Sherlock Holmes. All he could remember about him was that he was a detective with a Dr Bitchson as his sidekick of sorts. No, Bitchson does not seem right, otherwise the school would've never let him read those books. Maybe that was why it was taken off of shelves. Perhaps Hank should ask Connor?

"Are you adequetly prepared for the party tonight, Hank?" Connor's comforting voice asked. At least, as comforting as that voice could get. Cyberlife seriously could not give Connor a voice more fucked up than his voice. And yet, it still fit him better than any other voice. Somehow.

"Let's just get this over with," Hank mumbled, trying to get the knot on his tie right. The son of a bitch cloth just wouldn't listen to Hank's shaking fingers; swearing profusely, Hank threw the cloth to the floor in a fit of rage. It landed on the floor with an unsatisfying thump, unlike his shirts and pants that he would occasionally throw to the floor. "Ugh, this party is going to KILL ME!"

"It won't. D—Dad." Hank froze. He couldn't seem to breath even when Connor loosely wrapped his tie around his neck. Faintly smiling, Connor said, "Let's go to the party. Wouldn't want to be late."

Something was wrong with Connor. He was too formal and polite, and too uncomfortable in his suit. Connor used to walk around in suits like they were a second skin. Now he acted like he has always hated suits, grabbing at the collar like it was itchy.

"So, how was your day?" What the hell? Hank's eyes widened, unnerved by Connor's actions. Did Connor just ask him that?

"It was fine. How about you?" Connor shrugged. SHRUGGED. Fucking Christ, Hank didn't know that Connor could act so teenager-like. How was he supposed to handle a teen?!

"You sure?" This time Connor hesitated. His eyes twitched a bit like he was thinking deeply about something. Hank already knew that this was just Connor processing something, so he waited for Connor to finish.

Then Connor rolled his eyes and said, "Yes, I'm sure." The way he said it was a bit shy. Since it was his first time ROLLING HIS EYES, Hank could understand that. But what Hank couldn't understand was that Connor actually ROLLED HIS EYES!

The way Connor smiled, walked, and talked. He was way too... _human_. Too _teenager_. Weird for Hank to even think. He should be happy for Connor, but he feels like he just got out of a hangover. Which he has. "Are you okay, Connor?" The question slipped out before Hank could stop it.

Connor stopped where he was and faced Hank with a confused expression. "Why? I feel fine."

Now Hank stood like an idiot outside the car, fidgeting as he prepared to talk to Connor. God, how he wished he had some whiskey. "You called me father and rolled your eyes and _shrugged_ and just—I want to make sure that you aren't hiding again. That you feel that you can trust me."

From the way Connor looked at him, he felt guilty. Fuck, he screwed up. "I'm fine." Oh god, Connor hates him. "Really. I just want to assimilate with the teenager population more easily and practiced on you. I apologize if I made you feel uncomfortable, Hank." And Hank could just tell that Connor was being honest.

Hank sighed, relieved that Connor wasn't going through _that_ phase again. Shit, how was Hank supposed to react if Connor _did_ have another mood swing? "Get in the car already. Also, don't do that again at home without telling me. You almost put me in the grave a million years too soon."

"I apologize for acting like that without mentioning that I was practicing. Did I seem to be a teenager, though?"

Hank ran a hand through his hair as he started up the car. "Yeah, you did," he settled on. And Connor was satisfied, humming some random tune that he must've picked up off the street as he out on his seatbelt. One glance at Hank's seatbelt and it was on in a flash.

How did he even get into this mess? This would surely put Hank down faster than any bullet.

 **{Time skip! At the party! Also, this chapter is going to be a little short. Sorry! I shouldn't do this to you, but I did! Yay?**

 **Please don't be mad. And it's Mara's POV, just so you know.}**

Mara pressed her face against the windows, staring wide-eyed at every flashing light down on the streets. Quickly opening the window, Mara leaned out and tried to call to the fairies down there. One of them had taken her tooth and given her that shiny circle of metal held tightly in her hand.

She could tell that Peter was behind her, but she didn't listen to what he was going to say. Those fairies weren't lights from cars! Connor would believe her!

"Hey, Mara!" Mara refused to look away for a second, afraid that she would miss the fairy fluttering by her window. She had to thank the fairy for the metal, but none of the fairies ever fluttered up too high, and those that did were really high up. Why were they so high up away from the fairies? "I found Teddy!"

"Teddy!" She jumped into Peter's outstretched arms—he had already prepared for Mara's sudden leap—and snatched Teddy out of his grip, hugging her stuffed teddy bear. "I missed you!~ Aww, wook! You're aw dressed up! You're so handsome in that wittaw suit of yours, Mr Bear!"

She fiddled with Teddy's new bowtie, giving him a light kiss on the forehead. "So, where's my new friend? Has he arrived yet?" Peter shook his head.

Mara pouted. Her party was about to begin. Oh, she hoped nothing bad happened to Connor! What if he got kidnapped for his innards?!

"He didn't get kidnapped for his innards, Mara." The small child blushed when she realized that she said that out loud again. Hopefully she didn't say that in front of her new friend. She didn't want him to run away like the last one. Stupid Mara. "He's just going to be here a bit late. Now, who wants some ice cream?"

Squealing, Mara climbed onto Peter's shoulders and yelled, "I scream, you scream, we aw scream for ice cream!" Peter laughed and twirled to Mara's enjoyment, heading for the kitchen where he was sure to find Steve.

Sure enough, Steve was pulling another cake out that Natasha had probably baked, placing it on the table for Mara to fail to reach. "Bad man!" Mara tugged on Peter's hair and dug her legs into Peter's neck, hiding her face in Peter's brown curls. She still hadn't gotten over Steve's imposter. And Steve hadn't really been around to make her feel otherwise about him.

Trying to salvage whatever remained of Mara's relationship with Steve, Peter asked Steve if he could pour ice cream for Mara. And unwrap some candy to sprinkle in her ice cream. In the end Mara grew closer to Steve, accepting that he might have a bit of a good side after he gave her the chocolate ice cream with a few Reeses in there.

"You're nice. Really nice! Can you pour me some more ice cream?" Smiling up at the nice guy, Mara held out her empty cup and pleaded him to give her some more with her eyes. Usually people would do things for her if she did this. Steve was no exception.

But Peter stepped in before Steve could say yes. "Come on, Mara. Don't you want some room for your birthday cake? After all, Natasha made it just for you!"

Mara clapped her hands together and glared long and hard at them. It was her way of thinking deeply about these sorts of things. "I do wike Natasha. Maybe I could have just the Reeses?" She stared up at Peter with her round, sparkling blue eyes.

Mara could see the moment where Peter caved. "Okay, fine. I'll get you some Reeses, okay?" Noddig vigorously, Mara promised that she would only eat three instead of her normal ten. She would sneak off to the fairies if Peter took too long again. After all, Mara did still have to say thank you.

As Peter headed to where she knew the candy was, Mara ran off towards the window. At least, that's what she would've done if the elevator hadn't chimed. Her head snapped towards it, waiting for the doors to open. Oh, she hoped it was her new friend!

And it was her new friend. The nicest bestie ever stepped into the room with his bestest dad and she couldn't help but hop into Connor's arms. He stumbled back out of shock, and his dad made a weird sound in the back of his throat. But it's okay, because his dad was one of the coolest, laid-back dad ever! He was so nice and had the funniest way of saying things.

"Hewwo, fucker!" Mara chirped, copying what Hank said the night she had arrived at his house. Connor glared at his dad, who's face turned a deep red. It was adorable how they reacted to her favorite saying. She would say it to her bestie every time from now on. Especially Hank. He's the coolest! Did she mention that he had one of the greatest hero voices ever?

"Hello, Mara." Her bestie _smiled_ at her. She gleefully twirled at the sound of his voice. It made her feel all giddy inside with how special his voice sounded. It was different from everyone else's voice. She couldn't say how, but it was a nice special. "Sorry we weren't here before. We just had to go and pick up some dog food for—!"

Sumo bolted for Connor, toppling him and licking his cheek while wagging his tail. "Sumo! Get off!" Mara squealed as she jumped on top of Sumo and joined the pile. Her birthday was the bestest day ever! She even got to play with her bestie and Sumo!

Peter wasn't nearly as happy as her, though. "Mara! Get off of Connor! Oh, god! I'm so sorry, Mr Anderson!" Mara rolled her eyes innocently at Peter's antics. Her big brother just loved to fret over everything.

Her bestie's dad just shrugged and said, "Sumo!" The dog boofed loudly, sitting up enough to let Connor push himself off the floor into a seated position. Still, the large dog wouldn't leave Connor's side. "We got some food for ya." At that, Sumo's ears perked up, and he barked again.

Mara clung to Sumo's backside until Hank brought out the food. Once Sumo's legs tensed up, Mara let go of Sumo's fluffy and soft fur so he could run over to Hank and the food bowl. Then she bounced onto Connor's lap, hugging him and saying, "Pick me up! Pwease?"

Then Connor rose up, holding onto her securely. "Spin me!" Mara demanded, and her bestie listened, twirling around in circles. Everything became a blur, and Mara let go of Connor's suit to lift her hands in the air and scream from joy. All the lights swirled in multiple colors, and her bestie could spin for a long time. "Wee!" she shouted, flailing her hands to let her long sleeves dance.

Then Connor stopped spinning. Mara giggled when she looked at Peter. Now he was spinning. She hopped onto the floor and fell down once the ground decided to spin as well. Everything was spinning! She wanted to join the dancing world.

But Peter picked her up before she could spin around again. The only one not dancing was her bestie. Why wasn't her bestie dancing? "Sorry about that. Are you sure I can't do anything for you?"

"No, it's fine," her bestie said in his singsong voice. Mara hummed to herself, trying to catch the tune that Connor seemed to always have in his voice. It was so unique. It was like Jarvis's voice. She couldn't seem to get Jarvis to show himself, no matter how many times she asked. Perhaps she should get him to show her which fairy gave her the shiny metal.

Wait, her shiny metal disk! Where was it? It wasn't in her hands anymore. Mara lifted Mr Bear to her face and tried to focus on his dancing eyes. "Where's my shiny metaw thing?" she demanded, and she could swear that Mr Bear shrugged.

If Mr Bear didn't know where it was, then it was gone! She lost the shiny thing! Mara wailed for her shiny metal disk, remembering how it was hidden underneath her pillow where her tooth was. Now it's gone! She lost the shiny metal disk! It must be so sad and alone.

"Mara! What's wrong?" Peter asked, always her nice, caring big brother.

"It's gone! I wost it! I'm a bad person!" Mara babbled on and on, unable to get anything out other than those three sentences.

"What did you lose?" Her bestie's voice floated over, always as calm and serene as she could remember. Mara sniffled, wiping away her tears as she tried to speak to her bestie.

"M—My shin—ny di—isk of met—taw." Mara hiccuped, burying her face into Peter's suit so she didn't have to look at Connor's face. She cried in front of her bestie! Oh, how she wished she could melt into the floor and disappear!

Peter gently rubbed Mara's back just the way she liked it, calming her down enough that she could breath normally. Connor must hate her now! He must be disgusted at how bad she was for losing her present from the fairies.

"Where did you lose it?" her bestie asked oh so politely, and Mara had to look at him to speak properly. But her mouth was glued shut, so she pointed at the ground in front of the door before huddling in Peter's arms and wailing again.

"Mara, what's wrong?" Now Mrs Potts was here, the nice lady that she was. Her presence reminded her of Teddy, and Mara felt scared that she would lose Teddy. "Peter, what happened?"

Peter lifted Mara again, for she had been slipping from his comforting hold. "She lost her coin. You know, from the tooth fairy."

"I wanted to thank the tooth fairy for the gift. But the gift's gone!" cried Mara, reaching her tiny arms out for Mrs Potts's shoulder to cry on. The nice lady took her out of Peter's hold, and Mara got to see the concerned crowd of adults she had befriended in this strange tower. It only spurred Mara to tightly grasp Mrs Potts's shirt in her fists and cry a bit more. Why couldn't she have the power to disappear?

"Is this is, Mara?" She whirled around to face Connor, who was holding up her shiny metal disk!

"Yes! Yes, that's it!" She fought out of Mrs Potts's grip and landed on the floor with a big thump. The world had finally stopped dancing, so Mara had no difficulty running back to Connor's arms. Hugging his neck, Mara snuggled in her bestie's hold and took the shiny disk out of his hand. Now she could properly thank the fairy that had been nice enough to give her this.

The fairies! "Connor, wet's go meet the fairies outside the window!" Pulling on his hand, Mara dragged him over to the window to see the array of fairies still fluttering over the ground and in the sky. She pointed to one of the faster lights and said, "Wook! It's a speeder. Usuawy they come after midnight." Mara pointed to another one that zig-zagged all over the ground. "And that one's drunk. I know because Uncaw Tony wawks wike that, too!"

Just then, Uncle Tony poked his head into the room and scowled at Mara. "Hey! I don't drink!" Everyone that knew Tony raised an eyebrow. "That much!" Tony added.

Mara just responded with an "Uh-huh." Then she saw a speck of red and blue, and she gasped excitedly. "Wook! It's a powice fairy! They go around and arrest the bad fairies, like how Uncaw Tony got pulled over because I was hanging out the window! I was reawy scared because he was driving so fast. I thought I couwd jump out if Uncaw Tony crashed."

"Hey! I thought you promised to keep that a secret! I even gave you galaxy ice cream!"

Mara stuck her tongue out at Tony. Afterwards, she dashed out the door squealing. Tony could be heard running after her, partially because Pepper Potts came around with a wooden spoon for getting pulled over again.

 **{Time skip! ( ‿ )}**

Mara sat in Connor's lap with Peter to her right and all of her adult friends on the other side of the table with cameras in their hands. Her arrow friend was hanging from the vents with a camera in hand for the perfect shot. Hank gave Mara a thumbs up, and Mara beamed back at him with a missing tooth. Did she ever mention that Hank was the bestest friend dad ever?

"Three, two, one!" Everyone cheered as Mara cut out a piece of cake with the help of her bestest bestie. Lots of clicks and flashes blinded Mara, but Connor's hand kept guiding her hand so the perfect piece had been sliced. And it was for her. All for her.

Her hands reached up to cup her mouth as she stared at the goody sweet cake in front of her. It looked so good! And it was all for her! And Connor, her bestest bestest bestie friend, had cut it out for her! She loved her bestie!

Connor ruffled her straightened black hair, holding Mara's plate for her while she rode around on top of his shoulders. "Connor, do I wook adorabaw in this new pretty dress?" To emphasize how pretty her dress was, she wiggled the ends of her glittery sleeves to make them truly shimmer.

He only needed to glance at her dress once to be able to say, "Yup. You look pretty in anything you wear." That was enough to make Mara melt. Her bestie thought she was pretty! _Pretty_! She could die right now and say that she lived a life worth living because Connor thought she was pretty!

But the moment ended too soon. She had to wave goodbye to Connor, Hank, and Sumo once the party was over. Peter picked her up as soon as they left to put her to bed, saying that she must be tired after her birthday party. Mara wanted to complain, to say that she was eight now, that she wasn't tired. But she really was tired, and it was bad to lie.

So she didn't whine when Peter tucked her in and sang her that song Aunt May liked to sing. She didn't fuss when everyone came in to say goodnight to her. She didn't snap at Tony when he came sauntering in to jokingly scold her. It was actually nice to have everyone tell her goodnight and a bunch of stories. She cuddled Mr Bear and didn't secretly stay up that night to read books and watch her favorite purple dinosaur dance and sing.

But it would have been better if Connor had been there to say goodnight.

 **And that's it! It was really short, especially considering how long it had been since the last chapter. But might as well post it now than never. Right?**

 **See you all in the next chapter!**


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